


Mission SteveTony

by itsallAvengers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Pining, Possessive Steve Rogers, Steve Is Emotionally Constipated But Is Trying His Best, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Wingvengers!!!! Shipping Stevetony like the rest of us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 09:59:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16038146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallAvengers/pseuds/itsallAvengers
Summary: If the entire team of Avengers could please stop trying to get it on with Tony when Steve isright there,he would really appreciate that, thank you





	Mission SteveTony

**Author's Note:**

> For Kate, who asked for some possessive/ pining Steve with the Avengers trying to get him and Tony to finally get together by taking matters into their own hands ;) I hope this was what you were looking for!

For the record, Steve would like to point that he was not usually a jealous person.

He wasn’t. Honest to God. Okay, so he could possibly called slightly possessive- not in the creepy way, obviously, but the mentality that he’d grown up around had been to keep whatever you could by any means necessary and treat it like it was precious, and maybe that had leaked into his personal relationships a little bit, but there was nothing bad about that. Steve just… valued and treasured his friendships. They were important to him. But obviously, he was also well aware that said friendships could often change and evolve, in the same way that people and their personalities also changed too. Steve had learned that, especially when it came to things in his life, things were often temporary. But he'd made his peace with that, and he was perfectly aware that everyone had the right to come and go as they pleased.

Basically, he was just trying to say that he wasn’t a jealous person. Steve was cool and chill and relaxed and absolutely fine with everything in the world, period.

 

That was why, the first time that Steve noticed Clint start to flirt with Tony at the breakfast table, he did not even care. At all.

 

It was a bit out of the blue. A bit inappropriate, really. The rest of the team had already been down at breakfast when Tony had stumbled in, sleep-mussed and adorable and desperate for his morning caffeine hit. Steve had watched him with a soft smile, getting ready to stand up and take the coffee that he’d already made for the other man over to him- however before he’d managed to, Clint had gotten there first.

“Here you go, gorgeous,” he’d said, walking over and then placing the cup into Tony’s hands with a wink, “that’ll perk you up a bit.”

Tony looked about as surprised at the close proximity as Steve did- but a second later, his face broke out into a smile and he accepted the coffee gratefully. “Clint, you are the best person in the whole world,” he declared with an indecent moan, lifting the coffee up to his mouth and then inhaling.

Steve blinked, and then looked down at the self-satisfied smirk he saw Clint pull. It wasn’t a big deal or anything, but- well, it was just that Steve _always_ took Tony his first morning coffee. That was… their thing. He didn’t see why Clint was all over it suddenly. And really- that comment Tony had made in response should’ve been directed at _him_. _He_ was the one who’d made the coffee. _He_ was the one who gave it to him every day, and it was kind of rude to just go stealing his jobs like that-

“Steve?” He blinked, turning to Natasha who was raising an eyebrow at him in slight confusion, “you hold that newspaper any tighter and you’re gonna rip it in half.”

He looked down, and then relaxed his hands with a small frown. Okay, so he'd been overreacting a little bit there. It wasn't like Steve had officially assigned himself as the Giver Of Tony's Coffee; anyone who was feeling generous could do it, and if anything, it'd save Steve a job. If Clint wanted to call Tony gorgeous and give him the morning coffee now, then that was okay. Totally fine.

He looked left as Tony came and sat down next to him; slumping immediately onto the table and letting his forehead rest against Steve’s forearm with a small sigh of sleepiness. Like a pavlovian response, Steve felt all the negative feelings dissipate. Tony’s touch was nice and warm and pleasant and… and just good. Steve liked his friends touching him. Contact was something he missed a lot, these days, and Tony sure loved to hand it out to him at any opportunity. And if it was Tony’s touch in particular that made him feel warm and fuzzy, deep down in his stomach, then no-one needed to know.

“Morning,” Steve said gently, thinking for a moment about putting his fingers through Tony’s hair. It was a battle he waged with himself every damn morning- and one that his self-restraint always ended up winning. It would be too weird to do that, and Steve didn’t want to make anything awkward with Tony. So instead, he just looked down and imagined what it would feel like instead.

Tony huffed, and then butted his head against Steve’s arm. “Time’s’it?” He asked through a yawn.

“8:34,” Clint interrupted before Steve could get there and do it himself. He came and sat down next to Tony, which again, was fine- but just unusual. Clint always always ate his cereal standing up against the counter. That was just what he did, so Steve didn’t really understand his sudden enthusiasm for… sitting. Next to Tony. And running a hand over his back too, apparently.

Which was normal and fine and something Steve had literally zero reason to get annoyed about. Obviously.

Tony groaned, and then leaned away from Steve and into Clint’s touch (fine fine fine fine fine). “Ugh,” he groaned, “too early. Haven’t slept in a bed in like, three days. I miss being able to use my spine correctly.” He pouted sadly, and Steve couldn’t help but smile again. Tony in the mornings was a sight to behold, and out of all of the versions of Tony that there were, Steve probably loved this one the most.

The smile fell swiftly off his face a second later, however, when Clint grinned down at him and then said, “well, my bed’s always free if you fancy it, Tony,” with a voice that was definitely not one that you used on a friend.

Steve stared at him in surprise. Clint had never seemed to express any interest in Tony before. And now he was asking Tony to- to go back to his room? At 8 in the morning? In front of the entire team?

Well, that was just crass, really.

Steve wanted to turn back to his paper and just focus on that instead. What his friends got up to in his spare time was none of his business. Tony was a free man, and he could do whatever (and whoever) he wanted. Obviously.

Steve continued to watch the interaction anyway. Just because… well, he was the team leader. He needed to know about interpersonal relationships within the team. It was part of his job.

Tony glanced up at Clint, and for one slightly soul-crushing moment, it seemed as if he was going to agree. But then he paused, sighed, and just flopped back down onto the table again, his hair brushing Steve’s arm once more. “Think I’ll pass on that one, Barton. I’m too tired for the kind of crazy acrobatic sex you’d probably offer.”

Rather than look disappointed (like he really should’ve done, because _come on_ , he’d been close to having sex with Tony Stark there. That was… well, Steve had heard that was good sex. Anyone would be disappointed), Clint simply patted Tony on the shoulder and grinned.

“Ah well,” he said fondly, “can’t say I didn’t try.”

And then he… he just stood up and grabbed the cereal box. Like he hadn’t just propositioned Tony in front of the entire team and been shot down. Steve could feel himself gaping- but for some reason, he was the only one. Everyone else was just going about their business, like this was a totally normal occurrence.

Hell, maybe it was. Maybe this is just what Clint did, and Steve hadn’t ever been around to see it. Which was, again, fine- but really, on a purely objective note, Tony totally deserved better than a sleazy line in front of a room of people.

Not that Steve wanted to or ever would, obviously, but if _he_ were to ask Tony for that, he would be far classier than Clint. He’d be respectable about it; they’d be in private- probably have gone on a few dates first, because Steve would want Tony to feel comfortable. And yeah, he knew that Tony was the kinda fella who barely even needed five minutes before he was comfortable enough to fuck someone, but Steve would just want to make him feel like he was being treated proper, that was all. They’d probably be drinking something- wine or champagne, because Steve would have prepared for this in advance, and again, he wanted Tony to feel like he was special. And maybe they’d be kissing, and it’d be slow at first, but then Tony would make a noise in the back of his throat- one that probably sounded like the one he made when he tasted the first sip of coffee- and Steve would pull him onto his lap and kiss his neck and ask quietly if they wanted to take it up to the bedroom, and Tony would nod and then-

Yeah.

Better than Clint’s stupid request, anyway.

He looked down, blinking rapidly. Tony was still sprawled over the table, oblivious to all of Steve’s thoughts, and for one crazy, ridiculous moment, Steve really wished that he had the courage to call Tony gorgeous in the way that Clint had. Because he was. And because Steve always thought, but never said.

It was stupid though. Tony was his friend. Tony was his team-mate. Tony was… out of his league.

So if Clint had the balls to try, then good on him. Steve had no claim over Tony and he never had. Tony was a free man, and Steve was absolutely okay with that.

He left the table pretty hastily a few minutes later, and made absolutely sure not to let himself think about Tony like the way he had that morning. In fact, he didn’t even think about Tony at all. Simply had a few mutinous thoughts about Clint, and whether or not Steve needed to come up with a more intensive training routine for him. He’d definitely been slacking lately- could do with a good workout.

Yeah. That was a good idea. Maybe then Clint would be too tired to even wake up early enough to give Tony his morning coffee, and the role could go back to Steve.

Not that he cared, of course. Like he'd said; It was only coffee.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

Steve wanted to reiterate to anyone wondering, that he really wasn’t jealous.

Okay, so the whole coffee thing was kind of annoying, because it seemed that Clint had decided to permanently take on the role that had previously been Steve’s, and it wasn’t exactly as if Steve could challenge that- then he’d just look a little ridiculous. But honestly, a lot of things Clint did were annoying. That didn’t make Steve  _jealous_.

It was just weird. That was all.

However, as it turned out, coffee wasn't the end of it. It got weirder still when, a few days later, Steve came down to movie night and almost sat on Natasha. Because she was in his spot on the loveseat next to Tony, and in the entirety of their movie-night history, the spot on the loveseat next to Tony had always, always been filled by Steve.

He could admit, it threw him a little.

“Steve?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow, “you’re in the way.”

He shut his mouth with a click, realizing he’d been stood in front of them both in shock for about three seconds flat, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Natasha was in his spot. And that her hand was playing with Tony’s hair, casual as anything.

“Uh,” he shifted awkwardly, looking for a new place to sit, “right, yeah, sorry.”

Awkwardly, he slotted himself in between Thor and Clint on the next couch over. He didn’t really care- everyone else alternated seats all the time, so he guessed it made sense that eventually someone would want the loveseat. If Steve had gotten there first, then it probably would have been Tony who’d have had to move.

Although that being said, Natasha probably wouldn’t have been twirling strands of Steve’s hair around her fingers and whispering in his ear.

He focused on the movie. It was about cowboys. Things were exploding and a lot of shots were getting fired and Tony was giggling in the corner  eye at something Natasha had said and their faces were ridiculously close-

He pulled his attention back to the movie, and refused to think about how weird it was to be sat over here, smelling Thor and Clint as opposed to the scent of metal and unique Tony-ness that Steve was used to during movie night.

Tony and Natasha made sense, he figured. They were both stunningly attractive, open with their sexuality, and they were good friends. Of course eventually they’d end up… like this. He wasn’t sure why it was now that everyone was suddenly so damn interested, when Steve’s been half in love with the guy for months and managed to keep it under wraps for all that time. Although maybe everyone else simply wasn’t as emotionally constipated as he was. Which… Good on them, y’know? He was glad that his friends were finding happiness.

He just wished they’d find it with someone else, that was all.

Steve tried to relax throughout the movie. He really, truly did. But it was like every sense in his body was dialled up to eleven and tuned specifically to the pair in the corner of the room as they whispered and giggled quietly. Natasha was sat in Steve’s spot, and he knew exactly what they’d be laughing about- Tony would be noting all the historical inaccuracies in the film and making sarcastic comments throughout. Steve knew that because it was always him who got that commentary, not Natasha.

But, you know, whatever. It was just a seat.

“Relax the grip on the popcorn, Steve,” Thor patted his arm gently, pulling one of Steve’s fingers away from the metal bowl and revealing a finger-dent underneath, “I know you like it, but sharing is caring.” His face was slightly amused as he took a handful of popcorn and then winked over at Steve, who just grunted before turning his attention back to Natasha, whose fingers were now stroking up and down Tony’s arm.

“-I’m just saying,” she whispered, and Steve shouldn’t listen, he shouldn’t, it was an invasion of privacy and not any of his business, “-we’d be the hottest couple out there. Everyone would look at us. Know our names. You’re gorgeous, Tony; what I’d give to have a piece of you…”

Steve swallowed, deciding that it was probably best for him to get a refill on his drink or go to the toilet, or pretty much anything that didn’t involve continuing to listen to their conversation.

Why the hell was everyone suddenly so interested in Tony anyway? He’d been single for months by now, and no one had ever even shown the slightest of interest. But now in the space of a week, two of the team had propositioned him! It was absurd, that’s what it was. Absurd and odd and slightly suspicious. Maybe they were Skrulls. Maybe shapeshifters or spies sent in to destabilize the team. 

Okay, so maybe that was a _little_ far-fetched, but come on, at this point in his life, Steve was definitely not ruling it out.

Also, Natasha seemed only to be interested in the physical appeal of being with Tony. Steve knew, if _he_ were to date Tony, it would be about far more than that. Steve would date him because Tony was selfless and kind, because he was good with kids and made Steve laugh even on days when that was the last thing on his mind. He wouldn’t kiss him in public just so that people would take pictures and wish to be in his place- he’d kiss him in public because Tony deserved to be kissed, and Steve would want the whole world to know that. They’d be a good couple. Steve was sure of it. They argued, yeah, but they were good at resolving their issues. They were a flawless team. And shit, there wasn’t a damn thing on Earth that Steve wouldn’t do for him. Steve would be the perfect boyfriend, and he knew without a doubt that Tony would be perfect for him, too.

Hypothetically speaking, of course. Because for now, Tony seemed very interested in what Natasha had to offer him, and that… well, that was great. They both deserved happiness.

When he finally got up the courage to head back into the living room, however, he noted with surprise that Natasha and Tony were no longer sprawled all over one another. They were sat at a sensible distance, and no part of Natasha’s anatomy was touching him. He blinked, sitting back down in his spot and trying not to think too hard into it.

Tony must have rejected her offer, then. Which was… probably for the best, really. They wouldn’t have worked out very well as a couple, Steve was sure of it. Too explosive; they’d have killed eachother in the first week. Better for team morale if they just stayed friends.

Yeah. That was the reason.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

When Thor started joining in with the ‘let’s try it on with Tony’ parade, that was when Steve began to get really suspicious.

Because really, come on. _Three_ of them? In the space of a few weeks? Steve’s spot on the loveseat had already apparently been permanently taken over by Natasha, because it was never free when he wanted to sit down there any more, and his coffee duty was in Clint’s hands as opposed to his own, and then for some reason when Steve went down the gym a few days later to do his weekly sparring session with Tony, he found that his spot as instructor had already been taken. By Thor.

He stood at the entrance of the gym and just watched them, feeling the ridiculous pout form on his face. Tony was laughing, and Thor’s face was also amused as they danced around the ring, sweaty and messy. Steve had no idea why Thor was even down here- his times in the gym usually never coincided with their morning sparring sessions, because the man trained in the evening.

He checked his watch. He was perfectly on time. Tony had no reason to be sparring with anyone else.

Not that he was obligated to spar with Steve, of course. It was just… it was what they did. This was how they spent their Sunday mornings- sparring and then going out for brunch later. And Tony would always complain that Steve had exhausted him, and he’d rest his head on Steve’s shoulder as he whined like a baby and Steve would roll his eyes and pretend as if Tony’s touch wasn’t making his heart go haywire.

You know. Just casual things.

“You have good form,” Thor told Tony as he ducked under a swing, “I’m impressed.”

 _Of course he has good form,_ Steve thought, _Tony is a great fighter. To imply otherwise is just rude._

Tony himself, however, didn’t seem to think it was rude; he just grinned. “Well, I’ve gotta be good if I wanna hold my own on a team of superbeings.”

Thor dived forward then, grabbing Tony’s arm and twisting so that Tony ended up pressed with his back into Thor’s chest. Steve watched in morbid curiosity as Thor leaned his head in close to Tony’s ear, whispering something that Steve only managed to pick up thanks to his enhanced hearing.

“You do more than hold your own, do not worry about that,” he murmured, “but please, if you would ever need any… additional help, then I would be more than happy to fill that role for you.”

“Hey guys,” Steve blurted loudly- loudly enough that the two men in front of him broke apart, turning to look at him in surprise, “uh, Tony… you wanna spar with me or keep going with Thor? I don’t mind training on my own for a bit if you’re working through a routine.”

Okay, so, dick move- but in his defence, it was a public gym. Anyone was free to barge in and interrupt them here. If Thor had wanted to cop a feel in the gym, he should’ve asked JARVIS to lock the doors. It was his own fault.

Tony smiled over to him, but then cracked his neck. “Actually, Steve, Thor’s kinda tired me out. I’m feeling really stiff now- don’t think I can go for another round.”

“Hey, would you like a massage?” Thor piped up before Steve could even get in edgeways and suggest they just head straight out to brunch, “I’ve been told I have magical hands.”

 

Okay.

So maybe Steve was going to have to re-evaluate his previous statements about a lack of jealousy here. Because… well, the knotting in his stomach and the growling under his chest was definitely not something that he would be feeling right now if he wasn’t at least a _little_ bit jealous. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about asking Thor to spar with him, right here, right now. And imagining himself shoving Thor off Tony, offering to help Tony out himself and do a better job of it than Thor ever would, was probably not something he should be thinking either.

Fuck. This was starting to become quite a big problem.

 

Tony glanced over to Thor, and then grinned as he patted the man on the shoulder. “Sure, big guy,” he said, “that’d be great. Need a good pair of strong hands; I don’t think my muscles have relaxed in about four months.“

 _I’ve got strong hands,_ Steve wanted to tell him- but it would have just sounded childish and pathetic, so he kept his mouth shut and just watched as Thor puffed his chest in pride, his hand landing on Tony’s shoulder. “My room?”

“Yeah, sure.”

And then… just like that, they were walking off together. Smiling at one another. Thor’s hand has left Tony’s shoulder and instead was somewhere worse, because Steve couldn’t see it and that meant that it was either on his back or- or somewhere else, somewhere Steve really really hoped it wasn’t.

They passed by him, and Tony looked over to him with a soft smile. Even then; messy and sweaty and with hair plastered all over his face, he still managed to look beautiful. “Lunch when I’m done, yeah?” He asked, and his shoulder brushed Steve’s as he walked on by.

Steve just blinked dumbly, before giving a jerky nod of his head and then turning away so that he wasn’t looking at the two of them any more. He could hardly stand it; there was a hot fire that burned angrily in his chest, and it was irrational and stupid and wrong, but for a second, Steve really fucking hated Thor. God, what the hell did Thor have that Steve didn’t? It wasn’t _Thor_ who Tony went to when he couldn’t sleep, wasn’t _Thor_ that got up ten minutes early to make Tony coffee just so that he could witness the man’s early morning smile. _Thor_ didn’t drop everything and anything in order to spend time with their resident genius, didn’t do everything in his power to make Tony smile because it sent his heart going crazy, and Steve bet his bottom dollar that there had never been a moment in which Thor had gotten out of bed at 3am and fetched donuts from the nearest MacDonald’s because Tony had texted to say he was craving them- for fuck’s sake, _Thor wasn’t in love with the fucking guy-_

Steve shut his eyes and looked down, swallowing heavily as his fist met the nearest punching bag and began to drill out his familiar routine.

It was stupid. Tony wasn’t obligated to love Steve back. And… well, Steve had obviously left it too long. Pushed it away and kept it hidden, even from himself, so that he had no idea how far gone he was for Tony Stark until he was watching everyone else put hands on the man, or proposition him, or ask everything that Steve wished he was brave enough to ask himself. And then suddenly, all that Steve could think about was pushing their hands away, telling them to back the fuck off, taking Tony’s face between his hands and just kissing him in a way he’d never be able to forget.

But of course, he couldn’t do any of that. Because he’d been too emotionally constipated to even see for himself that he was desperately in love with Tony, let alone do anything about it, and now it was too late. Everyone else had been braver and gotten in first. This… this was no-one’s fault but Steve’s.

He punched the bag hard, and tried not to think about any of it. They were just feelings. They would go away.

He built up a nice rhythm of hitting against the bag, his bare hands impacting hard against the reinforced leather that Tony had designed for him. He thought about dinner and mission reports and the PR week he was going to have to set up in a little bit with his publicist. It had been a while since he’d done any public events or interviews, and he knew that if he didn’t arrange one soon, people were going to start nagging.

Tony was probably in Thor’s room by now.

He sighed and punched harder. He needed to have a word with Fury too, about the next mission he was assigned to go on. Usually he’d have been fine with it, but it fell on Bruce’s birthday and he’d feel like a tool if he missed it. That reminded him- he needed to think of a gift to give him. Bruce was a difficult one; he was shockingly non-materialistic, and his interests were so vague and spread out that Steve couldn’t think of anything in particular the man even wanted. He’d have to go into the city at some point and look for things that the scientist might like.

Steve wondered whether Tony was taking off his shirt, his trousers- whether he was having a shower in Thor’s bathroom and cleaning up before-

Fuck. Fuck, jesus, this was driving him mad. He hissed in frustration and stopped the movement of the bag with his hand, leaning a sweaty forehead against its surface. He could try and try with all his might, but the image of the two of them were still stuck in his mind and refused to leave.

The thought that came into his head a second later was ridiculous. Stupid and childish and- and wrong, for God’s sake, this was absolutely nothing to do with Steve-

But… well, Tony had been talking about fixing up his shield-strap yesterday. And Steve should really check up on that, and see whether or not Tony had gotten around to it yet. He had to do a training simulation this evening, anyway. He needed his shield.

So he had to go and find Tony. Right? This was Avengers Business. It was important.

 

He was in the elevator before he even knew what he was doing with himself, and in less than two minutes he’d made it up onto Thor’s floor, marching down the corridor and feeling his heart beat rapidly in his chest. He had to go and make sure Tony had finished the design- if he hadn’t, how was Steve supposed to train? And if Steve ended up interrupting any… personal time along the way, then, well, that was just unfortunate, but there was nothing Steve could do about that, was there? They could always come back to it. Some other time. Hopefully in the distant, distant future.

He moved down the corridor, heading toward Thor’s grand room at the end of the hall. There was only one thing on his mind, and it was the single-minded focus that Steve _had_ to interrupt Tony. Had to keep him busy, away, like if he just held onto him long enough then Tony would realize that it wasn’t Thor he wanted- or Clint or Natasha or anyone else except Steve.

He almost made it, too. Almost put his hand on the door and pushed it open.

But about five steps out, he heard the noises that were coming from within. Muffled through the wall, but loud all the same.

It was Tony.

…Moaning.

Steve felt like every single cell in his body had frozen in place, locked with paralysis. He stared at the door, jaw so tight that he thought he was going to grind his teeth to dust as he heard Tony groan again, this time saying Thor’s name with delight just dripping all over his tone.

Oh God. Steve was going to throw up. Or cry. Or maybe punch the wall. He wasn’t too sure. All he knew was that Tony was in there, and Steve was in love with him, and Tony didn’t know this because he was busy having the time of his fucking life with someone else.

God. What was Steve doing here? Stood in the middle of Thor’s corridor like, what, he was going to be able to just pull Tony away from anyone who was interested in him? That’s not how it worked. Steve wasn’t jealous… okay, scratch that- he was completely, soul-achingly jealous- but even so, that was still not an excuse.

Tony was happy. And Steve was Tony’s friend. That… that could be enough. That _was_ enough, because Steve quite obviously wasn’t going to be getting anything more .

Tony groaned again, loudly, and Steve heard him swear through a hiss of air.

He turned on his heel and left.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

For the rest of the night, he drove himself mad with his own imagination.

Steve didn’t doubt that Thor was probably a great lay: the guy was a fucking God, for Christ’s sake, and he was by no means shy with the stories that he often told.

 But he couldn’t help but wonder- would Tony have enjoyed it more if it had been Steve instead? Because… because at the end of the day, Thor just didn’t _know_ him the way that Steve did. For instance, Steve knew that Tony always got cramp in his hands from the hard work, and that gently kneading his fingers would make him feel like he was in heaven. Steve knew Tony loved it when his hair was played with, and if it had been him instead of Thor, he would have used that to his advantage, running his hand through the soft strands and then curling his fingers into a fist, pulling Tony’s head back and exposing his neck. And Steve would kiss him there, because he knew that Tony was sensitive, and he knew the sort of whimpering noise that Tony would make in response, his ridiculously long eyelashes fluttering and only half-revealing his dark brown eyes, so beautiful and warm. He would call out Steve’s name instead, and it would sound _better_ on his tongue, like it belonged there- and then Steve would kiss him silent and lay him down on the bed, and he’d be careful and reverent and treat Tony as if he were a work of art on the walls of the Louvre, because that was the way that he deserved to be treated, and he’d watch Tony come apart underneath him and kiss every inch of skin that he could put his mouth on, and Tony would remember that, he’d remember Steve better than anyone else-

 

He blinked, and looked down at the desk that his hands were gripping, now splintered and torn from where his fingers had lay.

Steve didn’t have the faintest idea what to do about this.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

As it turned out, he decided to deal with it by challenging Thor to an arm-wrestling match.

He wasn’t sure why exactly that was what he had decided to focus all his attention on- perhaps due to the fact that Tony had said Thor had strong arms, whilst Steve had been _right there_ in front of him with arms that were just as strong- and now Steve was directing all his anger and hurt at _that_ particular fact, as opposed to the rather overwhelming realization that the man he was in love with was fucking one of Steve’s friends instead of him.

So yeah. Arm wrestling. To decide, once and for all, who was strongest. Who really could have given a better massage and all that.

Thor simply raised an eyebrow when Steve marched into the kitchen later that night, where all of the team except Tony were relaxing in as Bruce made dinner next to the stove. His expression didn’t much change when Steve rested his elbow into the table and then held out his hand.

“Wanna arm wrestle?”

Thor looked at him, a twinkle of amusement flashing in his eye. “Well Steve, you know I am always up for a challenge. But do you really fancy being bested tonight? You seem to have been in a bit of a funny mood these past few days- I’d hate to rile you further.”

And just like that, out came the stubborn, angry and brash little spitfire that had gotten him into an uncountable amount of fights back when he’d been nothing more than a skinny runt. He scowled, and then flexed his arm. “Well don’t worry, ‘cause I’m not gonna lose.”

The room of his friends went a little quieter as they all raised their eyebrows and drew closer. “Oh, I’m gonna wanna watch this,” Clint said in glee as he jumped onto the counter and rubbed his hands together, “Natasha, get on the other side, we’ll be the umpires.”

Thor paused only for a moment, before chuckling a deep, rumbling laughter and then slamming his elbow onto the table. He cocked his head at Steve and then clasped their hands together. “Is there a reason for this, Steve?” He asked.

 _You got Tony first and now I feel like I need to prove myself with this ridiculous wrestling match._ “No. Just wanna know whether I can beat a God.”

Thor laughed again, and then shrugged. “Fair,” he said, before signalling to Clint, “count us in, will you?”

 

Two minutes later, and they were still both stuck in the middle, neither of them budging from their stalemate. Steve was red in the face, his whole body tense as he attempted to get the upper hand over Thor, but the God was simply not fucking budging. His hand was absolutely killing him. He was not going to be able to move his arm for the next three days at least.

But he hadn’t lost yet. If he won, then it would be worth it. And he _had_ to win, now, or it would just be utterly humiliating.

Across the table, Thor grinned tightly, and then pushed just that little bit harder. Steve felt his hand give, but he held up halfway off the table as Thor pushed, his elbow cracking the solid stone countertop.

“You’re waning, friend,” he gritted out, looking at Steve, “if I were you, I would concede. Save some dignity.”

Steve huffed. “Wouldn’t you just love that.”

To his left, he heard a Clint-like chuckle. “Well, you definitely wouldn’t want to lose to Thor now- Tony’s just walked in, and we all know how weirdly competitive you get around him. Anything to make Stark swoon, right Steve?”

He whipped around, lightning-fast, eyes going wide as the surprise knocked off his balance. Thor pinned his hand to the table so hard that it became embedded into the counter, but Steve just yanked it up absently, the match completely forgotten. “What did you say?” He asked.

Thor was cheering to himself, but Steve was concentrating on something very different by that point, as Clint simply shrugged and then hopped off the counter. “Oh come on- we all know you’re in love with the guy. You always _always_ have to win any sparring match or xbox game or anything when you know he’s watching you. It’s fucking hilarious, Steve.”

He gaped at his friends as they all just shrugged in agreement. Steve could hardly believe what he was hearing- were they really saying that they knew? This whole time?

“Are you telling me,” Steve said quietly, as he stood up from his chair, “that you _all_ knew that I loved him. Are you seriously fucking telling me that, despite the fact you knew that, you still thought it would be- it’d be what, _funny_ , to blatantly try and- and seduce him right in front of my face!” He waved his arms incredulously, looking in disbelief at the group of friends in front of him. “How could you? Do you know how much that hurt? I watched Thor take him back to his room and all I could do was stand there as the guy I was in fucking love with went off and fucked someone else, and you didn’t even have the decency to be fucking _discreet_?”

He couldn’t fucking believe it. Worse still, the team didn’t even look ashamed- they looked fucking _amused_. Steve… well, Steve was gearing up to punch something to be quite honest. Or someone.

Then he heard a cough behind him.

A familiar cough.

And his blood froze up in his veins.

“Ooookay,” Bruce said suddenly, voice registering in the non-petrified part of Steve’s brain, “I think your work here is done now, Avengers. Time for us to leave.”

He watched, still absolutely refusing to turn around, as all of his friends melted away and hurried off, patting Steve on the back as they went until all he heard was the sound of a dripping tap and the gentle shut of the living room door.

He still didn’t turn around.

“So,” Tony said, and Steve flinched at the sound of his voice- the knowledge that he really hadn’t been imagining things suddenly bringing everything into a stunning, mortifying clarity, “you- uh- you love me, huh?”

Steve could say a billion things. He could turn and walk right off. He could get on his bike and just drive, take a break from it all and then come back when everything had blown over and was forgotten.

Instead, he just looked down at the floor and shut his eyes. “Yeah,” he said, voice quiet, “yeah, I do.”

Silence.

He wished he could just take back the whole day. Never see Thor and Tony, never challenge him to that stupid arm wrestle, never accidentally blurt out everything he felt to the entire room of fucking Avengers, including Tony.

“Well that’s a damn relief,” Tony said, and Steve-

Well. Steve frowned. Because he had to have heard that bit wrong. There was no way Tony had just said that.

“The team and I sort of had a little bet going on,” Tony continued, and Steve was hyper-aware of his footsteps as he drew closer, “they- uh- they were convinced you were in love with me. I said that it was bullshit, you know, you’re _Steve Rogers,_ why the fuck would you ever… but yeah. I told them that if they managed to get you to admit you were in love with me in under four weeks, I’d do all their paperwork for the next three months. They then told me their plan- to flirt outrageously with me whenever you were nearby in order to make you jealous enough to finally snap and admit your feelings- and I, a man absolutely sure that it would never work, agreed to it. Mostly just involved being hit on by Bird-ass when I was least expecting it and also a free massage from Thor, which was nice.”

Steve blinked rapidly, feeling Tony’s shoulder as it brushed across his own. “As it turned out, however, I was- uh- I was wrong,” Tony finished softly, “the guy of my dreams _does_ actually love me in the same way I love him. Who’d have thought?”

Steve couldn’t resist, then. He turned his head and looked at Tony in bewilderment. “What do you- I don’t underst-“

Tony kissed him.

Steve felt the hands around his neck, he tasted the hint of chocolate on Tony’s lips and sensed the heat that came off his body in waves. It was like… everything Steve could have ever thought he would ever feel, rolled into one tight ball and pushed under his chest. A single kiss for a single second, and Steve knew without a doubt that he would move mountains just to feel the same way again. That was just what Tony did to him.

God, how had Steve never realized this until it had almost been taken away from him? He was an idiot. A blind, stupid idiot, who somehow was still being kissed by Tony Stark.

With a soft moan of surprise and delight, Steve pushed forward and kissed back, taking Tony’s hips under his fingers and pulling him in, eyes falling shut. It felt like all the nerves in his body had suddenly been dialled up to 100, and every last one of them was wired to what Tony was doing. The way his tongue licked across Steve’s bottom lip. The feeling of his eyelashes fluttering against Steve’s cheek. His hands, the way the thumbs stroked back and forth over Steve’s jaw. Everything, everything, everything.

“Tony,” he whispered, bending down a little and then picking Tony up under his thighs, hoisting him up onto the counter for a better angle, “I- I don’t… do you really mean that- you want me, not… not Natasha or Clint or Thor-“

“Of course I want you,” Tony spoke his words against Steve’s lips, breathing in sharply, “Steve, it’s always been you.”

That gave him a moment of pause, and he broke away to look up at Tony with slightly wide eyes. The other man was looking straight back down on him; kissed into a complete mess in under a flat minute, his hair sticking up at all angles and his lips shiny from Steve’s own mouth.

He was so… God, he was just _overwhelmingly_ beautiful.

“Always?” Steve asked, nervous and soft.

Tony leaned back down, kissing his worries away. “Always always,” he confirmed, teeth bumping against Steve’s as he smiled, “God, I had pictures of you in my room from the age of three until about thirty. Even when I hated you I loved you. I don’t think… I don’t even think I know how to do anything else.” Tony shrugged, looking down so that their foreheads bumped together. “I’m a sure thing, Steve.”

That was more than good enough for him. He leaned forward again, restarting their kiss with a fresh and harder intensity. Tony’s breath caught in his mouth and Steve stole it all away, delving deeper, wanting more than anything to know each corner of Tony’s being, map him like a canvas. “Their plan worked,” he muttered, head moving under Tony’s jaw, kissing where he knew it would have an effect, “the raging jealousy and misplaced hatred I felt toward all three of them sort of pulled my head outta my ass a little.”

Tony giggled, but Steve just shook his head and huffed. “Fuckin’ serious,” he muttered petulantly, “I’d see you with them and I’d just- God, all I could think about was how I’d do it _better_ , how I’d be so good to you, I’d know how to make you happier than any of them,” Steve nipped at Tony’s neck and then listened to the way the man’s pulse jumped under his teeth, “I would, Tony, I would.”

Tony groaned softly, hands tightening in Steve’s hair for a moment as he leaned his head back against the cupboards and gave a better angle for Steve to kiss up his neck- however before they could get too carried away, a voice interrupted the two of them.

“Okay, so I know you’re all sappy and together and obviously there’s going to be a _lot_ of sex going on over the next few days,” Bruce poked Steve in the back, and he broke away from Tony with a look of intense sullenness on his face, “but please, for now, take it somewhere else. I’m making dinner in here, man.” He pulled a face. “That’s just unhygienic.”

Tony eyed Steve for a moment, and then grinned as he curled their hands together. “Whatever you wish, Brucie,” he declared, hopping off the counter and then leaning up onto his tiptoes, whispering into Steve’s ear. “The man is right. My bedroom will be much better. Fancy a… a very in-depth tour?” His eyebrows wiggled as he leered up, and Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he tugged Tony’s hand up to his mouth and then pressed his lips to the knuckles. He felt like he might wake up any moment, realizing it was all just some sort of dream. It felt like it was just too good to be true- a few hours ago, Steve had thought that Tony was never going to love him back, and now?

Well, now, they were about to have some incredible sex in Tony’s king-sized bed with Egyptian Cotton sheets.

Sweet deal, really.

“After you,” he murmured, pushing his hand against Tony’s lower back and then leading him out of the room. He looked back at Bruce as they went, shooting his friend a pleased smile. “Oh, and Bruce? Tell Thor I say thanks.”

“What for?” Bruce looked confused, “he beat you in an arm wrestling match and made you think he was fucking the guy you are ass-over-face in love with. Honestly, that's why I didn't get involved- thought that Mission SteveTony would do more harm than good, you know.”

Steve’s brow creased, looking over at Tony and mouthing the phrase 'mission Stevetony' in confusion before turning back, a small pout on his face. “He didn’t _beat_ me, I got distracted,” he muttered, before shaking his head and continuing, “but it’s more for the way he forced me into pulling my head out of my ass. Kinda figure I owe him one for that. Although I appreciate the fact you didn't want to upset me. I'm glad we have at least one adult on the team-”

He felt a tug on his hand and turned, raising an eyebrow at Tony’s impatient face. “Hi, yeah, can we get a move on please?” He asked, “I would like to have sex with you. Now, if at all possible.”

Steve just laughed, waving at Bruce as he was pulled out of the room. He figured, like Bruce had, that this was probably going to be a common occurrence for the next few weeks. Then he looked down and watched Tony’s ass as he ran up the stairs, and simply gave a mental shrug at the prospect.

There were definitely worse things he could be stuck doing, he thought.


End file.
